


thinking past that

by honeyvoiced



Series: ❝ been here before ❞ [7]
Category: Dynasty (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Humor, Miscommunication, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:34:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27592792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyvoiced/pseuds/honeyvoiced
Summary: In which Kirby comes across a ring and then assumes every romantic moment alone with Fallon that follows is going to be THE moment
Relationships: Kirby Anders/Fallon Carrington
Series: ❝ been here before ❞ [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1426408
Comments: 14
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was in my list of prompts to fill and I can't remember if I had this one myself or it was anonymously submitted, but I decided it deserved more than the lack of justice that I'd do it as a one-shot. Thank you Amanda for beta-reading, as always.

She wasn't snooping when she found it.

Well, she was. But it wasn't what she was snooping for - in fact, the idea genuinely hadn't crossed her mind in a serious way in months. Sure, every time she looked across a crowded room and caught the brunette tipping her head back and laughing at something that someone else had said to her, or when they were having a particularly unimportant conversation but Fallon's eyes widened and she leaned forward a little,  _ really  _ listening, Kirby thought about how she was going to spend the rest of her life with her, but those were always abstract feelings. This, forever,  _ good _ . She'd only  _ really _ thought about when she'd ask Fallon to marry her once - she'd always pictured something big and flashy; a massive rock set in an expensive precious metal band. Traditional. But when Fallon had said she could borrow a pair of earrings to go with a new outfit she'd ordered, she had realized by digging through the brunette's jewelry collection that she wasn't much of a traditionalist when it came to accessorizing. 

The thought floated into her mind so smoothly and casually that it almost startled her. Fallon's jewelry collection was full of unique pieces. Whatever ring Kirby  _ inevitably  _ bought for her when she  _ inevitably  _ proposed would have to be unique, too.

She hadn't thought about it since then, though - proposing, that is. Clearly, Fallon had. 

Buried in the bottom of a basket of thick, soft scarves, Kirby found the box. It was hand-carved, wooden, with no indication that it was even housing a ring. At first, she'd anticipated cufflinks - something belonging to Blake that had fallen into the box at some point, and been covered up by Fallon's late autumn/early winter accessories before being put in storage - but as she lifted herself out of her crouch and popped the box open, she realized the box had been very intentionally hidden. It was uncharacteristically cool for September, which was why Fallon had asked for the scarves to be brought out from storage and put in her closet in the first place, which indicated that the ring had been sitting there since the previous winter had ended.

The ring itself was stunning - soft champagne gold with a floral-looking setting for the stone - which was the first giveaway that Kirby was clearly the intended recipient for it. It was opal, but softly, subtly tinted green like the color of mint ice cream -  _ real _ mint ice cream - a color that she didn't wear as often as Fallon claimed she would have liked.  _ "It makes your hair look so bright. And your eyes - it's like it warms them up."  _ Half of the time when Fallon spontaneously brought any gifts of the wearable variety home for her, they were that shade.

She didn't dare pull it from the box, not wanting to risk getting any hint of her fingerprints on it despite how badly she wanted to try slipping it on and admiring it - just to see.

“Kirby?”

Fallon’s voice outside of the open bedroom door from the hall startled her into almost dropping the wooden box onto the hardwood floor and undoubtedly giving herself away. Fumbling the box a couple of times with growing dread, Kirby breathed out heavily in relief when she caught it and jammed it back under the scarves, kicking the basket back into its spot.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m in here.”

Turning to look busy digging through cardigans, Kirby cleared her throat and turned as Fallon entered the closet as well and smiled innocently.

“Are you almost ready? Reservation is for eight.”

“Yeah!” Kirby replied, a little too enthusiastically and loudly than she’d intended to. “Yeah, just getting a sweater.”

Stepping closer, Fallon narrowed her eyes and tilted her head back to look up at the other woman.

“You know, I don’t know if I like having you in here digging around. You have your  _ own  _ clothes.”

Feeling her breath catch in her throat, Kirby’s eyes flicked back and forth between both of her girlfriend’s and she desperately tried to come up with a quick sarcastic response. Did she have any idea what Kirby had come across? Was her guilt stamped across her forehead in big block letters? The box of scarves - and the ring - burned a hole in her peripheral vision.

“Are you okay?” The brunette’s face morphed into a look of concern instead of playful scolding, and she reached up to touch her cheek. “You look kind of… pale.” She pressed the back of her hand to her skin and frowned thoughtfully, but Kirby brushed her away softly.

“I’m fine. Let’s go.”

* * *

She should have enjoyed herself. She'd been begging Fallon to actually go out for dinner for weeks, but she'd been too busy most nights to do much more than work up until dinner was served, then vanish before anyone else finished to keep working until she finally fell asleep. 

Her mind was racing with thoughts: why hadn't Fallon proposed yet if she'd had the ring for so long? Was she expecting Kirby to first, and was just saving the one she'd picked for her to wear after the fact? What if she still went ahead and proposed and ruined whatever Fallon had planned if it wasn't that? What would she be wearing when it happened? What if she was doing something really stupid, like trying to fix her lipstick, or what if her nail polish was chipping and she had to stare at that brilliant ring on her messed up hand for a week until she could get a manicure?

If Fallon noticed her edginess, she didn't mention it. She didn't bring up that Kirby seemed in her own head or distracted, needing to be asked twice if she wanted the Chateau d'Esclans Garrus Rose or the Scharzhofberger Riesling with their lobster. Her own voice sounded far away when she prodded Fallon about work, keeping with the conversation at hand like it were muscle memory, but even through three courses, a quiet drive home, and soft, sleepy lovemaking before bed, she couldn't seem to snap out of it.

Business carried on as usual. Fallon slowly got back on top of her overhaul at work, spending more and more time at home and making up for her previous absences by spending time with Kirby whenever they had the chance to be alone. The whole thing made her so happy that she almost fully forgot about the ring, still hiding in the basket in the closet. 

September turned to October, and the weather only seemed to get cooler. It was a particularly cold morning after a particularly warm night that Kirby thought about the ring - and the potential proposal again - when Fallon woke her up at the crack of dawn.

"Hey." She shook her arm gently, and when she didn't respond immediately, trying to pretend to still be asleep, she shook her harder. "Hey. Are you asleep?"

She was whispering loudly enough to be intentionally trying to wake Kirby up, and the redhead knew that the fastest and least painful way to get back to sleeping in would be to just go along with whatever Fallon needed first. It was tempting to fling an arm around her waist and pull her back down into the sheets, insisting that they just have five more minutes of sleep over the brunette’s inevitable giggling, but she knew that the path of least resistance was the smarter move.

"I wish I wasn't," she grumbled, burying her face in the pillow to try to prepare her eyes for the waking hours of the day.

"Please?" Fallon's voice was surprisingly sweet, which piqued her interest immediately. "I want to show you something. Put something warm on."

"Fallon," Kirby rolled over and looked up at her, taking in her appearance - she'd expected her to still be in her pajamas, but she was bundled up in a thick terrycloth robe and a pair of Kirby's much frumpier - but undeniably comfortable -  _ Ugg  _ slippers. "What is this about?"

"Can you just trust me?"

Sitting up and rubbing her eyes, Kirby nodded.

"Okay. Gimme a minute."

She wandered towards the closet, stifling a yawn, and then froze in her tracks when Fallon spoke again.

"Grab a scarf, too. It's really cold. And get one for me, please."

“Are - you sure - but - okay?” Kirby tried and failed multiple times to ask what she really wanted to ask before just shaking her head and heading into the closet without an answer, leaving her very confused girlfriend in the dust. She stepped into a pair of slippers and pulled out the first cardigan that she saw that looked at least marginally less formal than the rest of Fallon’s clothes, then turned to face the basket of scarves. It looked so innocent, just  _ sitting there _ , unaware of the psychological war that it had started between her and her own mind. Glancing back at the bed through the open closet door, Kirby noted that Fallon had turned her attention to her phone, instead, and quietly shut the door as much as possible. Dipping down and taking a deep breath, she buried her hand into the scarves - it wasn’t her fault that she was just being extra enthusiastic about grabbing a completely random pair of scarves from their spot - if she happened upon the ring, she happened upon the ring. She wasn’t  _ snooping. _

She  _ wasn't  _ snooping. She was digging her hand around in the basket - now almost frantically, and then pulling every single scarf out one by one, shaking them in case the little hand-carved wooden box had gotten tangled into one of them, and then panicking because  _ the box was no longer buried in the basket of scarves. _

Her first thought, because logic wasn’t an option when it was so early and cold and she was so tired and the bed she was being forced away from was so warm, was that she’d imagined it had ever been there at all.

But then, much more realistically, she understood that it had to have been moved - and that the only other person who probably knew that it was there was Fallon. If she'd been paying better attention, she'd have known when it had been moved with a little more precision - she hadn't laid eyes on it since almost a month earlier, and Fallon could have retrieved it at any time between then and now without Kirby realizing. Unless she'd moved it  _ very  _ recently - like that morning, while Kirby was still asleep.

Was  _ that  _ why she was so uncharacteristically enthusiastic about whatever she needed to show her?

"Hurry up!" Fallon's voice floated in from the bedroom again, and Kirby hastily grabbed two of the scarves - and a quick spritz of perfume - before heading back into the room and trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.

"Okay, okay. I'm here," Kirby tossed one scarf in Fallon's direction as she neared the bed, then began to wrap the other around herself. "What's the hurry? I'd honestly really like a shower, before we -"

"Nope! No time!" Fallon insisted, cutting her off as she climbed up from the bed and grabbed Kirby's hand tightly. She all but dragged her to the door, and the pair of them hurried down the hallway, feet sliding gracelessly in their slippers on the freshly waxed floors.

She rarely got to have Fallon like this, at least sober. It wasn’t that she couldn’t enjoy herself, but these moments of sheer, informal, and unbridled excitement were rare. Perhaps being proposed to in a bathrobe and ill-fitting sweater wouldn’t be the worst thing - as much as she willed herself not to, Kirby had to picture retelling the story of being dragged out of bed at an ungodly hour for this to people later, with that opal ring gleaming every time she accented her point by talking with her hands.

They made it to the end of the hall, to the door of one of the barely-used balconies along the side of the house, and Fallon wrenched the door open, flooding the air with a chill that managed to slice through the warm layers they had bundled themselves in.

"Look."

They stepped onto the balcony, and Kirby almost slipped on the unexpectedly slick outdoor marble. At some point during the night, when it had been warmer, the dewiness on the grass and trees had clearly built up a substantial amount, because the early morning cold had left a sparkling layer of icy frost on every inch of the grounds as far as they could see from where they stood.

It was beautiful enough for her to completely forget about the ring and the proposal for a moment. Stepping up to the railing, Kirby placed the ends of the scarf on it to protect her hands and put them down gingerly, leaning over to peer down at the ground below.

“It’s almost like snow.”

“Almost,” Fallon agreed, her voice much closer than she’d been standing when Kirby first looked away. Before she could turn, she felt the brunette’s arms slip around her waist - with a hint of struggle at all of the layers separating them - and then her cheek press to her shoulder. They stood in quiet calm for a moment, before Fallon spoke again. “Are you… wearing perfume?”

“Huh?” Kirby pulled free from her to turn around and was thankful for the cold air making an excuse for why her cheeks suddenly felt very very red. “Oh, uh…”

Before she could try to come up with a lie, Fallon waved a hand dismissively, then began to dig in the pocket of her robe. Remembering the  _ why  _ of being outside in the cold, Kirby tried to look away, pretending not to notice the other woman and glancing back at the view again.

"Kirby?"

Closing her eyes for a moment, and taking a deep calming breath, Kirby turned to face the brunette once more, and then blinked in confusion.

"Uh, what're you -"

Holding up her phone and squinting at the screen, Fallon used one hand to gesture for her to turn around again.

"No, no, look out over the side again, and just... turn your head a bit..."

Following her instructions, despite her confusion, Kirby turned away again and heard the telltale sign of a camera shutter sound effect before Fallon sighed.

"Perfect. Look."

She beckoned the redhead over again and swiped through the few photos she'd taken of the view, with Kirby standing just in the edge of the frame admiring it. The early morning sun and its reflection from all of their bright, near-white surroundings lit up her hair to look like flames. Fallon had an eye for setting the stage like that, but Kirby could hardly care to admire it now.

"Yeah. Pretty." She knew she sounded deadpan, but she couldn't help it - the adrenaline wearing off from her earlier anticipation made her suddenly much more tired than she'd been even when Fallon had woken her earlier.

The brunette, already tapping away on her phone screen, looked up and frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Kirby replied, forcing a quick, tight smile before leaning over and pressing her lips to the other woman’s temple. “I’m just cold. And tired. But thank you for getting me up, I’m glad I got to see this.”

Fallon's face relaxed at her reassurance, and she stepped a little closer to kiss her again, but properly. Just as she began to melt into the other woman, she pulled back to speak again.

"Maybe you need a hot shower - you know, something to warm you up, and... wake you up." She walked two fingers up her back as she pulled her closer. Despite the thick layers of protection, the redhead still shivered, her disappointment very quickly forgotten.

"Hm, I think that sounds like a good idea. It'll probably need to be a long one, though, and I don't want to waste the hot water for you. We could share one? You know, just to be safe."

Grinning - and not bothering to point out the obvious fact that the manor had an on-demand water heater - Fallon closed her eyes and nodded sagely.

"I think that's also a really good idea. C'mon."

Taking her girlfriend's hand, she turned to pull her enthusiastically back into the house, kicking the balcony door shut behind them as they headed back towards the bedroom.

* * *

If Fallon had any inkling of just how much havoc she was wreaking on Kirby's mental state, she certainly didn't choose to show it. In fact, she seemed even calmer than usual in comparison to the jumpy alertness that Kirby couldn't shake from herself no matter how hard she tried. She'd started doing a quick solo meditation in the mornings to try to steel her nerves for the day ahead, distracted herself with tasks around the manor that kept her mind and hands busy, and tried to properly enjoy every moment she had alone with her girlfriend instead of teetering on the edge of anticipation constantly.

She did, however, get a manicure.

She told herself that it was her usual - which it was, in a sense - but she usually did her own nails, and a perfectly fine job of them, but knew that the extra cash to have someone come by the manor and fix them for her was an unnecessary expense that would hopefully pay itself off.

It was hard to justify every one of her actions, though. Known for always being kind to the household staff, Kirby had become irritable and twitchy and suspicious without noticing at first. In her defense, she was always quick to correct herself whenever she caught the rough edge in her voice, but it was embarrassing nonetheless. Most of the staff had known her since she was very little, and the disproving frowns when she replied a little too sharply to a simple question made her feel like a child being scolded by a parent. 

Even though Fallon wasn't ever the target of her frustration, she was still ever-perceptive and caught on quickly to the uncomfortable aura surrounding the redhead. In an attempt to save face and still seem, well,  _ deserving _ of a proposal, Kirby found herself waffling back and forth between trying to give the other woman as much opportunity to have her alone as possible and also avoiding her whenever anyone else was around. The fewer witnesses to her confusion and nervousness, the better. 

Fallon was very obviously trying, too, making time for them to either go out for dinners or eat alone in their own space in the manor. Still, every time they tried to settle in and watch a movie in bed or the other woman dropped obvious hints that she had completely different post-dinner activities in mind, Kirby couldn't shake the thought out of her head that she was going to be caught unawares and ruin whatever Fallon had planned as soon as she let her guard down for a moment.

It wasn't until Kirby snapped at Sam for scraping his fork too loudly against his plate at breakfast one morning - after a long night of tossing and turning in bed alone - that Fallon finally decided to say something.

"Did you have any plans for the weekend?"

Kirby assumed she was talking to Sam until the silence dragged on for a beat too long. Glancing up, she caught Fallon already staring at her expectantly. The brunette raised her eyebrows, almost impatiently, as she waited for a response, and Kirby cleared her throat.

"Oh. No... not that I know of, but I’m getting the feeling from your tone that you’ve made some for me."

Swiping her phone up from its spot beside her plate, Fallon tapped at the screen for a moment, then held it out for Kirby to see.

"I found this little cabin on Airbnb, like an hour away. I thought since I'm ahead of everything this week, we could spend a night up there, just us."

Kirby narrowed her eyes suspiciously as she looked between the screen and the other woman's face.

_ "Why?" _

"No reason!" Fallon replied quickly, already tucking the phone away again.

"No reason?" Kirby clarified. "Totally just... out of the blue?"

Fallon sunk into herself ever so slightly, her brave face faltering for just a split second before she cleared her throat and averted her gaze.

"You seem a little bit stressed. I just thought we could use a night without distraction."

"Or wifi," Sam chimed in, but Fallon shushed him.

"Oh, please. It  _ obviously  _ has wifi.”

“Romantic,” Kirby deadpanned.

Ignoring her initial lack of enthusiasm, Fallon continued.

“What do you say?" she tried, turning her attention back to Kirby. "One night, one day. We'll get a chef on call and sit in front of the fire... it'll be picturesque."

The word ‘picturesque’ left a ringing in the redhead's ears, but she ignored it.

"And you  _ just  _ decided this?"

"I can be spontaneous!" Fallon replied almost indignantly. Her reaction was so genuinely offended that Kirby forgot her concerns and suspicions momentarily and laughed in spite of herself.

"I know, I just - yeah. I'm giving you a tentative yes - only so I'm not disappointed when you inevitably get a Friday night call about some office crisis and abandon me."

Shaking her head, Fallon rolled her eyes and then fixed her with a genuine, hopeful smile.

"I won't. I'm taking your 'tentative yes' as a promise. We'll leave on Saturday afternoon and won't come back Sunday until you are absolutely, 100% rested and relaxed." She punctuated her point by reaching over and gently poking the tip of her nose with one fingertip before standing up from the table altogether. "If you'll excuse me, though - until then, I have incompetent and overpaid interns to wrangle. I'll see you tonight."

She leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to the crown of the redhead's hair before heading out of the dining room. Alone with Sam once the clicking of the other woman’s heels had faded into silence in the distance, Kirby avoided his gaze and prodded at the leftover cold pieces of toast on her plate.

"Seriously," he finally spoke. "What's going on with you?"

Kirby glanced up and caught his eye, then sighed quietly. She could tell Sam everything - but the idea of telling him about this and then being wrong made her feel so preemptively embarrassed that she could already feel the blush beginning to heat her cheeks and neck.

"Nothing. I think I need a new mattress - I haven't been sleeping. Sorry for snapping at you."

"No harm, no foul," he promised, smiling easily. "Maybe Fallon's on to something with the whole Airbnb romantic cottage getaway. I could use some R&R myself."

Not bothering to point out that Sam was easily the most relaxed person Kirby could think of, she just shook her head with a smile and then pushed her plate away. Her stomach had knotted itself up and she lost her appetite - she couldn’t tell if it was nervousness or excitement, but tried not to dwell on the feeling too long to decide.

"I'm going to go figure out what to pack."

Without giving herself any more time to be tempted to spill all of the details - the ring, the fake-outs she'd been experiencing, and everything in between - Kirby got up from the table and quickly made herself scarce. 

  
Fallon wouldn’t have planned an entire getaway for them - and for her to have secured that Airbnb for that upcoming weekend meant that she had  _ definitely _ been planning (and booking in advance) long before asking Kirby for her input on the trip - without some kind of significance hanging onto it. Kirby knew she hadn’t missed any milestone anniversaries, either; she had painstakingly memorized each detail of her personal day planner and most of Fallon’s earlier on, when she’d tried to pinpoint a potential ‘when’ for the green opal ring to make its reappearance. Letting the nerves slip away into giddy hopefulness, she scampered up the stairs to the bedroom two at a time, mentally planning out her packing list. With something to celebrate, they’d probably be staying there a lot longer than the single night.


	2. Chapter 2

“When you said ‘cabin’, this wasn’t exactly what I was imagining.”

Kirby raised her voice just above the music floating in from the sitting room, waiting a beat for Fallon’s reply before uncorking the bottle of wine on the counter. 

"I showed you a picture!"

"I wasn't paying attention," Kirby replied honestly, smirking to herself as she refilled her glass from dinner, then took it and the bottle into the other room with her. The truth was that her overthinking about the ring had put a fog over her brain that hadn't cleared until they'd arrived at the 'cabin' in question a few hours earlier.

Fallon looked up at her questioningly as she approached the couch, and she backpedaled quickly.

"It was early. Besides, I still like it here, I would have been happy with a mud hut as long as you were in it."

"Aw," Fallon grinned, reaching out and taking the bottle to refill her own now-dwindling glass. "That's disgusting."

She laughed and twisted away when the redhead flicked some of the condensation from her fingers at her before wiping her hand gently against her leg and settling in next to her on the couch. Slipping her legs across Kirby's lap, she squirmed closer and wasted no time kissing her, causing her to have to quickly and blindly set her full wine glass on the coffee table next to them.

"Hm, hey there." She pulled back to look at the brunette for a moment, chuckling at the already breathless look she received in return. "I knew I was right about the steak."

Referring to their dinner debate made Fallon laugh quietly - if not a little sarcastically - before she reached out and cupped the other woman's cheek to kiss her again. Their personal hired chef had arrived at the rental shortly after they had, which had cut their settling-in privacy short. Still, the food had been incredible, and once their chef left them to it and they were allowed to eat alone - without the bustling atmosphere of a restaurant - they had no complaints. 

Fallon was obviously making up for the lost time, though, getting so close that she was nearly in the redhead's lap by the time she pushed her back down onto the overstuffed couch and cut off her surprised squeal of laughter by kissing her much more hungrily.

"This was such a good idea," the brunette breathed, slipping her arms around Kirby's neck as her lips started trailing down to her neck.

"Yeah, you have a few of those," she replied playfully, pressing one more kiss to the underside of her jaw before lifting her head again as she remembered the 'why' of it all. "What exactly spurred this on, anyway?"

Fallon's eyes popped open and her features immediately twisted into an almost-pout at the sudden lack of attention.

"I told you. You just... you seemed really stressed out, I thought you could use some relaxation. Away from everything."

"I seemed stressed?" Kirby chuckled, raising one eyebrow. "Me?"

"Yeah," Fallon insisted, nodding a little. "These last couple of days, especially. And I thought the privacy would be good for us."

"Hm, I bet you did," she replied, dancing her fingers across her waist where her shirt had ridden up.

"Stop!" The pout vanished to make way for laughter as Fallon grabbed at her hand with both of her own and wrestled her away when she continued. "I mean it!"

Laughing when the brunette's actions made her slip and fall back onto her, Kirby softened and brushed her hair back to kiss her once more. 

"It was a good idea. And I know you've been stressed too - even if you don't want to admit it."

Pursing her lips to keep the 'busted' smile from her face, Fallon watched her carefully before her features softened again.

"You've been a big help."

"Hm?" Nudging the brunette aside just enough to cram herself between her and the back of the couch, Kirby slipped her arms around her neck and tucked her face into the crook of her neck. "What do you mean?"

"I just mean... you've been a bigger support system than I think I ever told you. I'm lucky you were there all the time.”

"You don't have to thank me for that," Kirby told her quickly, pressing her lips to the spot below her ear before settling in more comfortably. Across the room from them, the blaze in the fireplace popped loudly over the sound of the music. The thoughts of much less wholesome activities on the couch they were snuggled up on melted out of her mind as she felt her eyes growing heavier from the combination of good food, wine, and atmosphere. 

Fallon was right that she'd been a support system - or at least she had tried to be. It was nice to hear that her efforts hadn't gone unappreciated, even though she would have done it regardless. Hearing the other woman admit that she was stressed - at least admitting it before being in the throes of a full-on breakdown - was a nice change from the usual, too. 

"Kirby?"

Before she could answer, the brunette wriggled around enough to be on her back staring up at the other woman.

"I have to ask you something kind of important."

Eyes snapping open in alarm, Kirby tried to keep her expression neutral despite the immediate adrenaline-fueled panic that set in, shooting out to the tips of her fingers and buzzing through her stomach. This was it. She was convinced that there was no way Fallon couldn't feel her heart pounding against her side through her own chest before she turned to face her properly. They were almost nose to nose when she realized Fallon was waiting for the okay to continue.

"Okay."

Sitting up properly, the brunette crossed her legs and turned to face Kirby with a considerably more serious look than she'd been wearing earlier.

"I just... I think it’s sort of a big step, but you've been so helpful over the last year, and you and I are in such a good place... it's got its risks, obviously, but we wouldn't have to rush into anything with it, either."

"Fallon, I l-"

"No, let me finish." Fallon's voice had taken on a rare shakiness and it did nothing to calm Kirby down at all. "I just... would you want to maybe... try working together again?"

"Yeah, I - Wait, what?"

"It could just be a trial thing!" Fallon said quickly, regret quickly twisting her features as she tried to backpedal. "I just... things were good last time - until they weren't. I just think... we make a really good team and I miss having you around."

Ears ringing, Kirby shook her head slowly, like she was trying to rattle her brain back into place after it had been blasted out of position from sheer shock.

“I have to think about it,” she cut Fallon off as she threatened to continue her nervous rambling, then gently slid her aside to stand up from the couch. “I’ll sleep on it, at least. Okay? I just… I’m kind of starting to get a headache, now. I’m going to go lay down.”

“It’s eight-thirty,” Fallon pointed out, sitting back and watching as she crossed the room. “Look, if you don’t like the idea, I’m sorry. We don’t have to, I just thought -”

“Fallon, it’s fine. I just don’t feel good.” Feeling guilty, she quickly returned to the couch and kissed the other woman’s temple. “I’m sorry.”

Settling in a little more, Fallon nodded slowly, then reached for her wine.

“Okay. Do you want me to bring you anything?”

Shaking her head, Kirby shook the leftover adrenaline out of her fingertips and then turned to leave again, climbing the wooden stairs two at a time to the loft overlooking the remainder of the cabin. 

“Goodnight, love you!” Fallon called from below.

“Love you too,” she replied quickly, all but diving into the bed without bothering to get properly undressed. She’d sleep off the nerves and disappointment. Everything would make a little bit more sense in the morning.

* * *

Kirby had considered coming back down after relaxing for a little while, rejoining Fallon on the couch to finish their bottle of wine and actually spend some of the promised time together, but evidently the high thread count sheets and aerated mattress had had other plans for her. She didn't remember even falling asleep and certainly didn't remember having any dreams. This certainly felt like a dream, though - waking up to the leftover smell from their fire the night before, with the sounds of birds outside of the window and only the warm body next to her keeping her company. All of the usual morning sounds of the manor were completely absent, with the exception of the soft groan that came from the lump of blankets beside her, accompanying a cat-like stretch. Just her hands poked out above the top of the duvet, fingertips stretched out tightly before the entire figure went lax, rising and falling slightly as she fell deeper asleep.

"Fallon."

Reaching over and brushing her fingers over one of the other woman's palms, Kirby rolled a little closer and continued her path, gently pushing the duvet further down to touch her wrist and then the crook of her elbow. The other woman didn't stir until she pushed the blanket past her face and caught the smirk in place there. With her eyes still closed and arms still sprawled up above her head, the brunette cleared her throat.

"What're you doing?"

"Touching you."

"Why?"

In lieu of an immediate answer, Kirby trailed her fingers back up towards her hand, grinning when the brunette caught her fingers and held her still.

"You looked very sweet."

"So you decided to disturb me?"

"I didn't hear any complaints."

"Mm." Fallon nodded, smiling slowly before reaching up to pull the other woman closer to her. "Good morning."

"Morning," she replied, leaning in to kiss her softly. "You got into the rest of the wine?"

Brushing her thumb over the other woman's bitten and red-stained lips, she raised an eyebrow in a mixture of amusement and concern.

Fallon nodded.

"Just the rest of the bottle we started. I would've shared if you hadn't gone to bed right after dinner like an old woman."

She reached out to prod Kirby in the stomach, but she caught her hand and playfully pinned it to the mattress between them to kiss her once more.

"I am sorry," she apologized as they broke away. "I know you planned this whole thing so we could spend time together, and then I -"

"Kirby," Fallon cut her off. "I'm not mad. 'The whole point' was to relax. You getting a good..." she squinted at the clock on the wall behind Kirby's head, "...eleven hours of sleep counts as relaxing. As long as you're feeling okay."

"I am. I feel amazing, actually. We should do this more often."

Chuckling, Fallon adjusted herself more comfortably, settling in, and then reached up to pluck at the collar of Kirby's shirt.

"You were really out of it, huh? Slept in your clothes and everything. Sam mentioned you were thinking something was wrong with your bed at home."

"Yeah, I haven't been sleeping that well," Kirby admitted - it was only a half-lie. "It’s not a big deal. I can just crash in your room indefinitely."

Grinning, the brunette rolled her eyes, then said with a little more honesty than Kirby had been anticipating:

"Here I was thinking maybe you were upset with me. That I'd said the wrong thing or something."

" _ You _ ? Never."

"Don't be shitty." The brunette tried to pout but failed miserably. 

"I'm not!" Kirby laughed when she was yanked even closer still, her next sarcastic comment dying in her throat as Fallon kissed her. She went to pull back, to question if everything really  _ was  _ okay, but Fallon kept her close, kissing her over and over until she had completely melted into her before Kirby felt her fingers slowly working at the buttons on her skewed-from-sleep shirt.

"I  _ knew _ you had ulterior motives bringing me up here," Kirby mock-complained, brushing Fallon's hands away and savoring the look of confusion on her face before shaking her head and undoing the remaining buttons herself. Shrugging the top off and reaching behind herself to unclasp her bralette, she grinned when Fallon's confusion morphed into amusement and then business as she sat up as well.

Kirby had originally planned to talk in the morning - about the past year, continuing from their discussion the night before, and then, hopefully, to see what the future looked like for Fallon when she sat down to picture it. Those abstract thoughts that usually made her feel warm and fuzzy (this, forever,  _ good _ ) were beginning to feel more and more like unrealistic ideas without any real foundation to stand on. No matter what Fallon wanted, she knew she would be on board - but if they had to reroute the path of  _ them _ , then it would be better to know now rather than later.

Well. Not  _ now- _ now. Fallon scratching her nails across her shoulders and biting almost too roughly at her lip as she kissed her was taking priority, putting all discussions about feelings and the future on the back burner temporarily. 

"I'll have to wake you up more often," Kirby hummed - albeit a little breathlessly - when Fallon broke away just long enough to latch onto the side of her neck instead. Her sarcastic comment earned her a surprisingly sharp nip just below her ear, and she yelped in surprise before she could help herself.

" _ Quiet _ ," Fallon practically growled, though the playfulness was evident in her voice. Her fingers dug into the redhead's back in suggestion, pulling her even closer still to press them chest to chest with one another. Kneeling in the center of the bed, Kirby reached out and grasped at thin air to keep them balanced for a moment before giving up and letting them both tumble sideways into the mess of pillows at the head of the bed.

“Smooth,” the redhead noted.

“Okay, you know what -” Fallon started, not bothering to finish telling her ‘what’ as she tried to sit up again.

Moving to straddle the other woman's waist, Kirby laughed outright when she was met with resistance, barely recognizing that it was an intentionally defiant move before the two of them were almost wrestling. Squirming back against the pillows and trying to grab Fallon's hands, Kirby's skirt bunched around her hips and she let out a defeated groan when the brunette tucked her own leg between hers and pressed against her. 

"Yield?" The woman on top of her asked.

"You don't play fair," She observed breathlessly, as if it came as any kind of surprise. 

"That doesn't sound like yielding."

_ "Fallon!" _

"I haven't done anything to warrant you screaming my name yet," she replied, pinning their entwined hands at her sides and descending on her chest, her next words muffled against her skin. “Don’t be such a wimp.”

"No, please!" Giddy, hysterical giggling overtook her before Fallon had even done anything. The other woman's lips skirting around the lace edges of her bralette were leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake and it was as though she were physically pulling the breath out of her. 

"No?  _ Please? _ " Letting go of one of her hands and gathering the bunched up waist of her skirt in it, Fallon moved lower and lower to lay between her legs as she pulled it down. "No? What do you think I'm going to do, bite?"

Knowing that the rhetorical question was a threat in disguise, Kirby quickly pulled her other hand free for defense, her laughter renewing tenfold when Fallon leaned down and grazed her teeth dangerously - for them both - over the bottom jut of her ribs.

She tried not to squirm but  _ god damn it _ , it tickled, and the other woman  _ knew that _ perfectly well and she was definitely going to hurt one or both of them if she didn’t -

"Mercy!  _ Fine!" _

Pressing her lips apologetically to the spot, Fallon chuckled quietly, then lifted her head just enough to grin when Kirby looked down at her, shooting her a glare with very little venom behind it. 

“Still think waking me up is a good idea?”

Catching her breath, the redhead grinned back.

“That depends on what prize you want for winning this.” She nodded between them, then helpfully lifted her hips enough to let the brunette tug her skirt the rest of the way down, followed by her underwear, then kicked both softly onto the floor.

“I’ll have to think about it,” Fallon replied, sliding further down the bed and pressing a kiss to the inside of one of her thighs. “In the meantime, I’m not letting you get any more sleep, either.”

“The horror,” Kirby laughed, slipping one hand encouragingly into the other woman’s hair. “I think that sounds fair. I’ll let you be as selfish as you want.”

“I knew you’d see it from my point of view.”

Grinning at her again, Kirby dropped her head back against the pillows and laughed one last time before her girlfriend hiked one leg up onto her shoulder and went to work.

* * *

“So you’re definitely not mad at me, then.” Fallon’s voice, almost hoarse from their earlier activities, snapped Kirby out of her blissful non-thought. With her head back against the other woman’s stomach and cheek pressed to her bent leg, she was so comfortable that she felt like she was in a haze. All of her nerves were still buzzing pleasantly, but the sounds of birds outside and the occasional whistle of wind against the wooden structure of the cabin made her feel calm. Everything just seemed to be standing still, for a moment. They had nowhere to be, and no one to see except one another.

"I told you I wasn't," Kirby replied, turning her head slightly to glance up at Fallon's face. She was smiling, though, in that specifically lazy way that only Kirby got to see, mirroring her own bliss. 

"I was only half-serious."

Humming quietly, she reached up and touched the other woman's cheek, smiling to herself when the action caused her eyes to flutter comfortably closed.

"I'm glad  _ you're _ not mad at  _ me  _ for making you wait until this morning for all of that."

Exhaling sharply - as close to a laugh as Kirby was going to get out of her while she was so relaxed - Fallon shook her head and then shifted back against the pillows, letting Kirby's hand drop to her chest instead.

"Full disclosure, I already told Pierre not to bother coming by with breakfast," she admitted.

"I  _ was _ right about your ulterior motives."

"You were."

"Well," Kirby sighed. "I suppose that's fine. I am starving, though."

Checking her watch - the only thing she was still wearing - Fallon sat up and pursed her lips in thought.

"If you want, we could go into the city in a little bit - get some lunch?"

Kirby thought it over for a moment. Staying in bed for the rest of the day instead was a much more appealing idea, but the knot of hunger forming in her stomach had other plans. Besides - they could come back later. She'd originally thought that the proposal was what would push them into staying a little longer, but having the catalyst be her own sex-exhausted need to take a nap was also acceptable. A nice date was exactly what they needed to put Kirby back on track and squash out any disappointment that may have still been lurking in her subconscious, waiting to pounce when she was especially vulnerable.

“Lunch sounds good.”

Nudging her off to slip out of the bed, Fallon shook her fingers through her mussed hair and glanced back at Kirby with an almost uneasy smile.

“What is it?”

Realizing she was staring, she shook her head.

“Nothing. Just taking in the view.”

Rolling her eyes and reaching over to swat at her, Fallon laughed when she grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back down, kissing her soundly. 

“Okay,” she hummed. “Now you can go.”

“Oh,  _ thanks _ .” 

Giggling and letting her go, Kirby got up as well, glancing around to track down where her clothes had ended up. The shower stall in the single bathroom wasn’t nearly as generous in size as their own were at home, so she let the brunette take her turn first, volunteering instead to attempt to somewhat straighten the bed that they had skewed.

By the time they had both showered and changed, it was a considerably more acceptable ‘lunch’ time, so they bundled up, piled into Fallon’s car, and made their way to the restaurant she’d found for them online.

The restaurant was oddly busy, with the outdoor seating all flipped over onto itself to avoid tempting anyone who may have wanted to sit on the patio in the cold. Inside, it was bustling with activity - a little less intimate than Kirby had been planning on, but Fallon seemed unbothered as they were led to a little table near one of the large back windows of the main room.

"I don't know about you, but I could seriously use some french fries. Like, my body weight in french fries."

"You're not pregnant, are you?" Fallon replied, raising an eyebrow as if it were a serious question.

"Yes, and it's yours." Kirby punctuated her comment by sticking her tongue out, settling into her seat across from Fallon's.

"French fries do sound good. Our weight in them, even." 

Fallon ordered while Kirby poured over the cocktail menu.

“I feel like vodka at noon is a little… much. D’you want like a spritzer or something? Fallon?”

When she finally looked up, the brunette wasn’t focusing on her, but rather on something happening over her shoulder, further back in the restaurant. Frowning in confusion and turning to follow her gaze, Kirby saw a few surrounding tables with their phones out and ready, all seemingly aimed at the same cushy looking booth in the middle. By the time she realized what was happening, it was too late to try to divert Fallon’s attention elsewhere.

Across from them, a man was slipping out of his seat and sidling around his table to stand in front of the woman he was accompanied by, sinking into an almost-kneel and leaning in closer to her as he presented her with what Kirby could tell was an impressively expensive ring, even from where she was sitting.

_ “Of course!”  _ the woman squealed, her voice cutting through the surrounding noise. Nearest to their table, a few people clapped. Feeling suddenly cold and shaky, Kirby turned her attention back to her menu, avoiding Fallon’s eye. 

“Ugh,” the brunette finally spoke. Kirby watched her through her peripherals as she picked up her napkin and fiddled aimlessly with one corner. “Imagine being proposed to before six PM.”

Her response made Kirby laugh before she could help it.

“What?”

“ _ Lunch? _ ” Fallon continued, looking up and catching her eye. She kept her voice low, not wanting to alert any of their neighbouring tables that she was gossiping. “There’s nothing sexy about lunch. Lunch is the date you’re supposed to go on so there’s no commitment.”

Quirking an eyebrow, Kirby stared her down until she realized what she’d said.

“ _ This,”  _ she gestured between them, “Doesn’t count. We’re already dating. Besides, we’re going home right after this so I can rip all of your clothes off for a second time.”

Her tone had raised just high enough to no longer be discreet, causing the man at the table nearest them to choke on his water and in turn be kicked roughly under the table by the woman he was with.

“Well, judging by the size of that ring,” Kirby flicked her head back to gesture to the table behind her, “I can imagine they have a fun afternoon planned, too.” 

Fallon chuckled, dropping her gaze back to the napkin in front of her. Taking a deep breath, Kirby cleared her throat and then asked, as innocently as possible:

“I think public proposals are kind of nice. Maybe this place was important to them.”

Fallon shrugged.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever. I didn’t mean anything particularly deep by it.” She looked up, fixed the redhead with a quick, apologetic smile, and then turned her attention to their server as he approached with their drinks and platter of fries. She took a few from the plate and bit into them, inhaling sharply at the heat before continuing. “Ideally you should only propose once. I like the whole show of it, too. Within reason.”

Nodding slowly and reaching out to take a fry of her own, Kirby pretended to be thinking it over for the first time.

“Sure, I agree. Is that… I mean, proposal is one thing.  _ Engagement  _ is one thing. Do you… still want to get married, someday?”

The heavy ‘despite previous failure’ hung silently between them, and for a moment Kirby was worried that she might have ruined the moment, but after a minute to think it over, Fallon nodded, chewing slowly.

“Yeah. I still want to get married someday. Do  _ you  _ want to?”

Kirby nodded, a little too quickly for the casual vibe she was trying to give off, but couldn't help herself.

"Yes! Yes, I mean. I do. Want to get married. Uh. Someday."

If Fallon was surprised by her outburst, she didn't say it. 

Their server returned a second time with two side salads - their compromise for making an entree out of a plate of french fries - and then left them to it once more.

“Do you… think that’s maybe where we’re at?” Kirby tried, busying herself with the salad in order to avoid the other woman’s gaze once more. Her cheeks burned, and she could feel all of her blood rushing around under her skin, her fight or flight reflex kicking into overdrive. “Talking about it, I mean. Not literally getting married. Right now.”

“Sure,” Fallon replied easily, causing Kirby to choke on the piece of carrot she’d just taken a bite out of. “We can talk about it.”

The answer would have made any other hopeful person feel light, or even excited, but it weighed on the redhead in the distinctly heavy way that only came with disappointment. 

“Kirby.” Fallon’s tone had taken on a knowing, warning tone that in a more playful situation would have had her squirming on the spot and grinning in anticipation. Now, it just made her nervous. Her eyes flicked up from her plate to meet the other woman’s gaze, and she softened.

“What?”

"Do  _ you  _ think we should talk about it?"

"I mean..."

" _ Kirby _ ."

" _ Yes _ . I do. But it's sort of a big deal - and a two-person deal."

Fallon stared at her in confusion, then nodded slowly.

"Right... which is why I'm glad you asked. And then I agreed. Remember? A few seconds ago?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I just - have you? Thought about it? Before now."

Realization slowly dawned on the other woman's face before she reached across the table, reaching for her hand.

"Yes. I have - I mean, I do. Is that better?"

Chuckling and rolling her eyes, Kirby pulled her hand free and picked up her fork to stab at her salad again instead.

"Okay, well don't  _ mock  _ me."

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Fallon assured her, catching her eye - and the look of doubt on her face - before correcting herself. “Not about this. Jeez, give me a  _ little  _ credit.”

“Right, right,” Kirby reached out to take her hand again apologetically. “Thank you.”

Holding her gaze a moment longer, Fallon narrowed her eyes thoughtfully before letting go of her hand again to reach for the dwindling plate of fries.

“Is that all that’s been bothering you?”

“I didn’t say it was bothe-”

_ “But it was,”  _ Fallon cut her off smoothly. “So? Was that all it was?”

Kirby nodded.

"Good." Gesturing over Kirby's shoulder for their server's attention, Fallon sat back in her seat with a sigh. "This was a good idea - but let’s head back."

"Back home or back to the cabin?"

Fallon considered, for a moment.

"The cabin. I want the actually relaxed version of my girlfriend to have a good time before we have to go back to reality."

Having no complaints, Kirby reached for one last fry before sitting back as well. “Exactly what I wanted to hear.”


	3. Chapter 3

The days following their miniature getaway were quiet. The ‘conversation' didn't come up organically and Kirby decided not to push it, watching from the sidelines as Fallon tossed herself back into work despite swearing up and down that she was still feeling stress-free from their quality time and that Kirby had nothing to be worried about. While Kirby didn't bring up the marriage discussion, Fallon didn't bring up the idea of working together again either. Still, nothing between them felt stifled or withheld - their routine of spending lazy mornings together when they had work-free time, the occasional makeup-date of dinner and drinks during the week when they needed to catch up, and finding quick moments alone together where available was still in full swing.

Kirby had almost let herself forget about all of it, but like a text from an ex or a suspiciously specific park-bench ad, the universe reminded her about the 'why' of it all, again.

Sitting at the breakfast table with her chair pushed up beside Fallon's, Kirby pored over the other woman's open agenda with her. Christmas was around the corner and the two of them were going to have to sit down to plan their annual low-key, friends-only get-together that had become one of Kirby's personal favorite traditions. The party - a cozy event with a cap of eighteen guests, a couple of barrels of imported mead, and endless hors d'oeuvres - was the easy part. Picking a date around year-end crunch time when Fallon was actually available was the real challenge. 

“Let me get this straight,” Sam said, pointing his fork in their direction to emphasize his point. “You’re planning a date to sit down and plan another date.” 

“Sort of,” Kirby replied, glancing up for a moment before letting her eyes drop to the page again. “I just need it in writing, otherwise Fallon might bump my appointment out for something better.”

Nudging her sharply - but harmlessly - in the ribs, Fallon made a quiet noise of indignant irritation under her breath. Grinning but letting it drop, Kirby reached across the page for the pen tucked into its holder on the back cover of the planner and decisively circled one of the empty Fridays - a little under a week away.

“There. Solved.” 

Fallon protested again - something incoherent and starting with  _ ‘but!’,  _ but Kirby decisively shut the planner and pushed it away from them both.

“Finish your bacon.”

Sliding her own seat back and leaning over to press a dismissive kiss to the top of the brunette’s head, Kirby pushed her chair back in neatly and picked up her phone, pivoting on one heel to head out of the dining room.

Too busy checking the notifications that she'd missed while she was planning with Fallon, Kirby nearly bumped into her father as he rounded the corner from the front-foyer.

"Ah - I was just about to have this sent down for you."

He held out a small cream-colored envelope, then slid past her to continue on his path without another word before she could ask any questions.

Her name was written just below Fallon's in a painstakingly flawless hand-calligraphed font, the gold tint detail in the black ink making the whole thing take on a magical sort of property. Her stomach twisted as she turned it over and brushed her fingers along the real wax seal with a small piece of lavender pressed beneath it, popping it open before she could think too hard about the consequences. 

The tiny, stiff card featured a photo of Angelina and Amelia, two women that Kirby and Fallon had met early in its first year as potential investors at a small  _ Femperial  _ event. They’d hit it off - both with Kirby and Fallon, and each other - and had been inseparable ever since. Kirby knew what she was looking at immediately, not needing much more context than the image of the pair of them staring lovingly at one another, bundled up in matching sweaters and sitting on the front porch of their industrial-esque loft that they’d purchased together a year prior. A party invitation - and announcement of engagement. Tucking the card back into the envelope and continuing toward the stairs, Kirby tried not to dwell on thoughts of the other couple - how self-assured they were, the fact that they’d been sure to invite  _ Fallon & Kirby,  _ instead of Fallon  _ and  _ Kirby, and also the fact that she’d have to bring it up to Fallon, and possibly turn the pressure back on without meaning to.

She chose to tuck the card behind Fallon’s abandoned copy of the morning paper that was left on her side of the bed from earlier before heading to the bathroom to shower. 

She still did want to have the conversation, but when she'd been hoping for an organic way for it to come up between them, the reminder that other couples - newer couples - in their social circle were locking down engagements left and right wasn't exactly what she'd had in mind.

Just as she turned on the water and stepped into the stall, she heard the bedroom door creak open and sighed, realizing Fallon had returned a little sooner than she'd been expecting. Trying to listen to the sounds of her shuffling around over the loud flow of water, Kirby gave up a moment later and decided to focus on her plan of attack, instead. Maybe Fallon wouldn't even mention that it was an engagement party, or feel like they needed to talk about it. She'd had enough on her plate, anyway - maybe her only priority would be putting the party in her planner and coordinating the outfits for the two of them to wear.

A few moments later, Fallon’s voice just outside of the cracked-open bathroom door startled her.

“I’m going to head into the office - do you need anything?”

“No,” Kirby called back, raising her voice over the sounds of the shower. “Will you be long?”

She waited a beat, but didn’t hear a response- Fallon must have left as soon as she’d heard her answer. Sighing and reaching for her body wash, Kirby decided to count having a little bit of alone time as a blessing and stepped back under the stream of water.

* * *

Kirby almost forgot about the engagement party invitation. She spent a good portion of her day milling aimlessly around the manor, finding tasks here and there to keep herself busy and make herself useful - walking Bo, reorganizing the cabinets in Fallon's en-suite bathroom that she was slowly taking over, and even helping her dad with last-minute checks of the weekly shopping lists that were to be distributed to the rest of the staff. 

It was nearing dinner by the time Fallon did make it home, but Kirby chose not to mention it, too enticed by the delicious smells of the staff getting to work on the food and her own lonely boredom putting her in a much more forgiving mood, all but dragging Fallon upstairs to change. Despite her outwardly visible tiredness, Fallon was gentle with her, brushing her hands away dismissively when Kirby tried to undo her coat for her and doing it herself with silent sleepy exasperation.

"I don't even think I'm going to be able to keep my eyes open through dinner," the brunette admitted. "I didn't expect today to be so stressful."

Reaching back onto the bed, she picked up both the newspaper and the invitation, holding them out for Kirby to place elsewhere for her before noticing the latter and pulling it out to peer at their names on the front.

"What's this?"

She turned it over and noted the broken seal, glancing up at the redhead with a frown as she blindly began to work it open.

"Nothing," Kirby promised, taking it from her carefully before she could pull out the card. "A party invitation. We can write it down later. I missed you, today."

The brunette's curious look softened into a much more affectionate one and she leaned in to close the space between them and kiss her.

"You too, sorry that everything took longer than I was anticipating. I should've called."

"It's okay," Kirby assured her, not giving herself time to decide if that were true or not. "You're here now, I've been smelling roast chicken for the last half hour and it's my turn to pick the movie tonight. You really can't pull me down off of this cloud, trust me."

Chuckling, albeit sleepily, Fallon nodded and then leaned into her a little more, resting more of her weight against her chest as she sighed against the side of her neck.

Frowning, Kirby ran one hand through her hair slowly.

"Is everything okay?"

“Just tired.” Fallon’s voice was muffled against the material of Kirby’s shirt.

She waited a beat, then nodded as she pulled her away gently.

“You’re sure? We could have another cabin getaway if you were feeling on edge.”

Chuckling quietly and then standing up straighter, Fallon shook her head, then her shoulders, like she was physically dislodging any stress, and then fixed the redhead with a quick, tight smile.

“I’m alright. Besides, we’re going to be a little too busy for that, for a while. Tell me about the party.” Turning away from her, Fallon stepped out of her heels, kicking them messily aside before reaching behind herself and undoing the zipper of her skirt.

"Amelia and Angie got engaged," Kirby replied, as casually as possible - Fallon's energy matched her as she responded.

"Finally."

It stung - just a little - that Fallon could so clearly recognize that their friends had waited long enough, after only spending such a short period of time together, but she bit her tongue.

"When's the party?"

"In a couple of weeks. It's an afternoon thing, on Friday - think you'll be able to get out of work?"

"Of course I will," Fallon scoffed, glancing back over her shoulder and then shimmying out of her skirt to kick it aside. "It's important. Pass me that?" She gestured to the dress that was draped across the trunk at the end of the bed, holding one hand out impatiently as the other began to work at the buttons of her shirt. Passing her the garment, Kirby pursed her lips and then cocked her head to the side.

“I didn’t think they’d be next.”

“I did,” Fallon replied easily, confidently. “I knew it as soon as they met.”

“Oh yeah?” Kirby raised her eyebrows as Fallon stepped into the dress and pulled the sleeves up over her shoulders. Stepping closer, she grabbed the zipper for her, and brushed her hair out of its path as she inched it upwards for her. “What about when we met?”

Fallon laughed.

“I’d love to see the look on my face if you’d told me when we were kids that this is where we’d end up.”

Grinning, Kirby fastened the clasp at the neck of the dress and then smoothed her girlfriend’s hair back into place for her. 

“Yeah, I don’t think I’d have listened.”

Turning around and slipping her arms around her shoulders, Fallon locked eyes with her, falling quiet for a moment. It was an oddly comfortable silence, without any pressure to say or do anything, but it still felt pregnant with some kind of purpose that Kirby couldn’t  _ quite  _ put her finger on. It felt like Fallon was analyzing her, with the specifically concentrated look that was usually reserved for when she was listening to something she wasn't supposed to, or observing the people around her at an event, waiting for her moment to strike. She suddenly dropped her gaze, and the silence felt a little more awkward.

"Fallon?"

"I -" The brunette started to speak at the same moment, but stopped. "No, you go first."

"I just - are you ready to go down for dinner?"

Fallon caught her eye again and waited a beat, like she was trying to give Kirby a chance to retract her question and ask what she was really meaning to ask, but the redhead balked, dropping her intense gaze and clearing her throat.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

* * *

Arms wrapped lazily around Fallon's waist, Kirby glanced up at her face momentarily when she laughed again, trying not to grin at the sound every time.

"Told you I'd pick something good."

She tucked back into her spot with her cheek pressed to the other woman's torso just as she looked down at her.

"Hey. I give credit to your tastes  _ sometimes _ ."

"Oh yeah? Is that why you don't let me online shop alone anymore?"

"I'm just trying to be a good girlfriend," Fallon replied faux-snootily, though the smile on her face was evident, even in the dark only illuminated by the projector screen. "What kind of person would I be if I didn't lend you my expertise, whether you liked it or not?"

"A much nicer one, probably," Kirby replied.

“I’m going to let that slide because I’m too comfortable to do anything about it,” Fallon told her, reaching over to her nightstand and grabbing her glass of wine. 

“Thank goodness,” Kirby mumbled, snuggling a little closer as she settled back in and feeling the effects of her own wine and coziness taking over.

"Speaking of online shopping," Fallon spoke again, a moment later. "I bookmarked some stuff when you were changing that we can look at for that engagement party. I double-checked and it's just cocktail, so..."

"Sure," the redhead stretched out, then took Fallon's wine glass from her hand, sitting up to take a sip. She ignored the sound of protest the other woman made, handing it back before saying, "Has anyone else told you that they're going already?"

Pursing her lips in thought, Fallon nodded slowly, then reached over to pause the movie that they were no longer paying attention to.

"Rachelle is going to come if she can get a sitter for that night, but I wouldn't count on it. That woman goes through more au pairs than I can keep track of."

Groaning softly in agreement, Kirby slid back onto her own side of the bed to see the other woman's face better as she spoke.

"Kaira and Mel might be coming but they said they're getting back in from New York the morning of, so I don't know how good of company they'll be."

“Yikes.”

“Mhm.”

The conversation lulled to a stop, and Kirby reached over to take the other woman’s hand gently. The wine and overall comfortable vibe of the evening spurred her on.

“Do you think maybe this is a good time for us to have that talk that we mentioned a little while ago?” 

Turning to face her properly, squinting a little to make her out in the dark, Fallon stared blankly at her for a moment until the realization dawned visibly on her face.

“I mean… yes, in general. Not at this second, maybe.”

Dropping her gaze, Kirby looked at the duvet between them, instead, trying to mask her disappointment.

“Yeah, no, of course. Not… at this second. I just meant in general, too.”

“Good,” Fallon hummed, reaching over and brushing one hand over her cheek before burrowing further under the covers. “Because I want to finish the movie and curl up with my girlfriend.”

  
The word  _ girlfriend _ didn’t feel quite as warm and fuzzy as it had only a few minutes earlier, but Kirby said nothing, opting to wrap an arm around Fallon’s waist again and pull her in close as she unpaused the movie.

* * *

The engagement party was as painfully charming and beautiful as Kirby had feared it would be. The seventeen-hundred square foot walk-up was packed almost wall-to-wall with people, giving the high ceilings the illusion of an even greater distance, causing her to crane her head back to see the new light fixtures that she was immediately asked her opinion on upon entering.

“I guess you haven’t been here yet to see the old ones, anyway,” Angelina simultaneously grabbed Kirby by the wrist and deposited a cocktail glass into her hand, dragging her away from Fallon. “I’ll show you the upstairs, too.”

Glancing back at her girlfriend - who simply mouthed ‘have fun’ with a small dismissive wave - Kirby allowed herself to be pulled away, taking in her surroundings as she went.

The loft didn’t hold a candle to the manor size-wise, but it was distinctly representative of the couple that lived in it. Kirby could argue that the manor suited her and Fallon pretty well, too, which was true - but this place specifically showcased the people that inhabited it, and their life together. She hadn’t been inside it until now, only having seen a few photos of the space completely empty when they had first bought it. 

“I love what you’ve done with the place,” she said, hoping the generic compliment sounded as genuine as it was. Angelina led them from the top of the steps towards the upper area, converted into a bedroom and shared home office space. Her first thought was what a nightmare that concept would be while living with someone like Fallon, but said nothing.

“Yeah? Thanks. It’s mostly Ames’ doing.” 

Flowers in various vases and arrangements lined the far windowsill with notes of congratulations sticking out from each, and Kirby remembered why they were there in the first place.

“Congratulations, by the way. D’you guys have a timeline in mind?”

“Probably in the spring.”

Choking on the bitter cocktail that she’d just taken a sip of, Kirby quickly covered her mouth and tried to regain her composure as the other woman laughed.

“Yeah, I know. But we’ve pretty much had a venue in mind since we met, and there’s an opening in May that has our name on it. We weren’t planning on doing anything really big, either. Why wait?”

“I mean, yeah, sure, I just - yeah, that’s so quick. I know that’s always been your style, though.” Smiling as she sipped her drink again, now that she wasn’t being startled, Kirby took another look around the room and sighed. “This is nice. Really nice.”

“I thought you and Fallon would have moved into your own place, by now.”

“We aren’t in a hurry,” Kirby replied honestly. “It’s been home for both of us for a long time. Lot of good memories there.”

The two of them headed back towards the stairs.

“I know, I just thought you’d both be one-foot-out-the-door to get some privacy.”

“We do alright,” she said. “Besides, we’re not trapped in there. It’ll be a discussion for later, though.”

The pair of them reapproached Fallon, who had found Angelina’s other half, locked in an intense conversation over flutes of champagne. 

“Please don’t be talking about money, right now.” Angelina reached out, pulling her fiancee closer by the waist and resting her chin on her shoulder to narrow her eyes at Fallon. “I knew you’d be a bad influence. We’re  _ supposed  _ to be celebrating.”

“It was her idea!” Fallon protested. “Besides, we were barely talking about anything. Other than this insane flip you seem to be in the middle of.” She gestured around, and Kirby’s gaze followed everywhere she pointed as if she’d really seen the ‘before’ anyway. 

“I was just telling Kirby I’m surprised you two haven’t moved yet.”

Fallon turned to catch her eye before she looked over at Angelina again.

“Honestly with this last year or so, it’s not even on the table. Not with work the way it is.”

“Ah-ah, that counts as one of the banned celebration topics of discussion!” 

Amelia rolled her eyes, reaching up and covering the other woman’s mouth gently. The ring on her finger gleamed almost obnoxiously, and Kirby reached out to grab her hand for a better look without even thinking.

“Oh my god, that’s beautiful.”

Angelina beamed, clearly proud of herself.

“It belonged to my dead, homophobic aunt, whose dying wish was that I’d grow my hair out and find a nice -  _ white -  _ man.” She took Amelia’s hand back from the redhead to peer at herself again, smiling. “Now we both feel pure, unadulterated glee when we look at it.”

Planting a kiss to her fiancee’s cheek as Fallon laughed, Angelina pulled away to glance around and seemed to notice another party guest trying to catch her attention.

“Back in a moment,” she promised, leaving the three of them behind and weaving into the crowd.

“So,” Amelia’s face had taken on a considerably more mischievous look when she turned to face Fallon and Kirby once more, “I think, if my calculations are right… this,” she waved her ring hand around, “just leaves the two of you.”

Fallon laughed nervously, then cut herself off by taking a long sip from her champagne flute as if giving Kirby room to save her from floundering. Amused, if not a little vindicated, Kirby waited patiently for her to speak.

“That’s… a discussion we haven’t had yet, either. We’ll see what uh,” Fallon gestured weakly at Kirby, but didn’t look in her direction, “what this one wants to do.”

Narrowing her eyes and feeling her jaw go slack, Kirby opened her mouth to argue, to point out  _ how  _ bullshit that excuse was, how fucking  _ unbelievable - _

Grabbing another champagne flute from a passing cater-waiter, Fallon held it out wordlessly to Kirby, replacing her now-empty cocktail tumbler.

She slugged back most of it, and then cleared her throat. 

"Excuse me for a minute." Placing a hand on Fallon's lower back, as more of a warning than a courtesy, she sidestepped behind her and headed into the sea of other partygoers without any additional explanation or excuse.

* * *

The ride home was painfully quiet. It seemed like the guilt had had enough time to settle in by the time they arrived back at the manor, because Fallon trailed along behind Kirby as she headed inside and for the staircase wordlessly, trying to fill the gaps of silence with nothing-sentences. 

"Did you see the kitchen? I'll never get why people who actually cook never seem to allot enough space. Are you tired, already? We could get an early night. My feet are killing me. Hey, are you listening to me?"

Whirling around as she reached the top step, Kirby fixed the brunette with the most neutral expression she could muster, though she could feel the annoyance tugging at her features on its own accord.

“I’m tired, Fallon.”

Fallon stared up at her from the step below for a moment, then pursed her lips and dropped her gaze, nodding.

“Okay. Let’s just… go to bed.”

Turning away without another word, Kirby headed down the hall towards Fallon’s room and nudged the door open with her hip to flick on the light. She heard Fallon follow in behind her but still said nothing, instead heading into the en-suite to grab her nighttime cleanser and toner from Fallon’s countertop. Her things had very slowly migrated from her own room into Fallon’s over the last year or so, which the brunette only half-complained about, but at the time it had just been more convenient. 

“What’re you upset about?”

Fallon’s voice behind her startled her, and she glanced up over her shoulder to see her standing in the open doorway, leaning against the frame. Her arms were loosely crossed under her chest and she was watching Kirby critically, eyes narrowed slightly as if trying to scan her for clues. It overall lacked any sort of air of real concern or sympathy, so Kirby matched her energy and rolled her eyes.

“Deciding that  _ now  _ you want to talk doesn’t really work for me.” She picked up the two bottles and then pursed her lips in thought as she scanned the countertop for her moisturizer. “I think I just need a quiet night to… sleep on everything.” She gestured vaguely, then spotted the little pot of night cream and swiped it up from its spot as well, balancing it in her already full hand.

Brushing past Fallon and shutting the light off as she went, she ignored the sound of indignation the other woman made as she turned to follow her through the bedroom.

“What does that even mean? I don’t - Kirby,  _ wait. _ ” Fallon grabbed her arm softly by the crook of the elbow as she almost stepped out of the bedroom, causing her to sigh heavily and turn back to face her.

“I really want to be alone right now. Please.”

Fallon’s expression turned quickly from confused to hurt, and Kirby felt a tug in her chest immediately. Even when she was too in her own head to talk or let anyone in, Fallon was always content to be curled up with, held,  _ comforted _ . If she ever truly needed to be entirely alone, it either meant that whatever was happening was a) Kirby’s fault or b) very,  _ very  _ serious - which was probably what she was projecting onto the redhead, now. Despite her own feelings, Kirby used her free hand to pull her a little closer, and pressed her lips to her forehead.

“I’m frustrated. We’ll talk in the morning, okay?  _ I love you. _ ”

With an almost indiscernible pout, Fallon nodded and let her go, watching sadly as she turned and headed out of the bedroom and around the corner to the hallway.

The walk downstairs and to her own bedroom was eerily quiet - much more so than usual - but her door clicking shut behind her was much louder than it had ever been before. Placing her skincare items on her nightstand, Kirby collapsed onto the bed on top of all of the sheets and squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to fall asleep alone for the first time in forever.

* * *

She had hardly slept for more than an hour at a time, waking up over and over again and having no end of trouble in trying to get comfortable. Kirby's bed was considerably less luxurious but also less lived-in - she actually enjoyed the coolness of there only being a single body for the first hour, but very quickly grew fidgety with the lack of something to hold onto, and the pillows were a poor substitute for Fallon.

One of her favorite parts of waking up was that she wasn't alone. Even on the days when Fallon was awake too early and trying her best not to wake her while sneaking out of bed, she always did a terrible job, accidentally jostling the redhead and having to curl back up to  _ at least _ say good morning and goodbye before leaving for work. 

When she’d woken up for what felt like the twentieth time at three o’clock, Kirby had texted Sam - a quick message to see if he was awake, and then, without questioning  _ why  _ when he responded, an invitation to get breakfast together in a few hours. He’d agreed and they’d set the time for nine o’clock, but now, restless and wide awake at eight, Kirby didn’t want to leave her room and risk running awkwardly into Fallon before she was ready for them to talk about what had happened.

Glancing at her nightstand reminded her that she’d gone to sleep without properly washing her face, so she sat up in bed and reached for the bottles, deciding that that would be her first step of the day. It would take a good twenty or so minutes if she really took her time and pampered herself, so she wandered into her own en-suite and got to work. The lighting wasn’t as good as it was in Fallon’s en-suite, and the counter space was much more limited, but it was her own space and it gave her the privacy and time she needed to think about how angry she’d been the day before.

It wasn't that she was  _ mad _ at Fallon for clearly not wanting to talk about it, despite agreeing to. Kirby had been perfectly patient with the other woman, making her intentions known without leaning too hard into it or pressuring her to make any decisions or move them into a new stage of their relationship. But for Fallon to imply that it was her 'fault' that they hadn't even considered said next step was insulting, not to mention an outright lie. Kirby had been mature enough to be honest with her, and having the blame shifted back onto her instead of Fallon just openly saying she wasn't ready was cowardly at best and cruel at worst.

Finishing up with her skincare, she moved onto makeup, going for a basic, natural look with the sparse selection of products still under her sink that hadn't migrated to Fallon's room as well. Sam wasn't going to care if she didn't go for a full beat anyway, and she wasn't feeling particularly sparkly on top of that.

She was just finishing up her last layer of mascara when Sam texted her again to ask if she was ready, so she quickly threw an outfit together and rushed to meet him in the front foyer. He was staring up at the stairs when she approached him, and her appearance seemed to startle him.

"I thought you would still be in your room - Fallon's room, I guess."

"I was in my room," she replied heavily, fixing him with a quick, tight smile before she jutted her chin in the direction of the door. "Shall we?"

The Uber ride was Sam’s treat, and even though Kirby could see that it was killing him to wait, he patiently made small talk and managed not to bring up the fact that she and Fallon were sleeping in separate rooms.

It wasn’t until they were seated next to the frosty window near the back of the restaurant that Sam finally locked onto her, barely looking at their server as he ordered them a round of mimosas and asking her in the same breath,

“So? What’re you two fighting about?”

Pursing her lips, Kirby considered putting up a fight for a moment, but then just sighed.

“It’s not a  _ fight _ , really. Everything I’m about to tell you is under the strict protection of the brunch code of confidentiality.”

Crossing his heart with one finger, Sam nodded solemnly.

Kirby took a deep breath, then started from the beginning. She told him about finding the ring and how she’d agonized over it, and then about them deciding to talk but never really getting around to it. Finally, she told him about spending the night in her own room after finally snapping when Fallon implied that it was  _ her  _ fault they hadn’t taken another step yet.

Sam listened wordlessly, almost shooing their waiter away after gesturing for him to ‘keep them coming’ with their mimosas. 

When she finally stopped talking long enough to chug the entire mimosa in front of her, Sam folded his napkin into small squares and cleared his throat.

"You haven't told her that you found the ring?"

"No," Kirby sighed. "I didn't want to... ruin it, or assume anything."

"You? Didn't assume anything?" He gestured at her vaguely. "This isn't you making assumptions?"

Kirby pouted, leaning over the table to focus it on him like a pathetic sympathy-sucking beam.

"So she hasn't mentioned anything to you about all of this? She tells you everything."

"Nuh-uh," Sam made a key-locking gesture over his lips, shaking his head at her. 

"Come on, Sam - just tell me, I'm at my wit’s end, here. Has she said anything?"

Pursing his lips even more dramatically, Sam shook his head one more time.

"Ah-ah. I can't promise to keep your secrets but not hers. It doesn't work like that."

Sitting back in her seat, Kirby raised an eyebrow and barely managed to avoid crossing her arms huffily. 

"So she  _ has  _ said something, then."

“Look,” Sam almost cut her off. “What I can say is… it just seems like you guys got your wires crossed. If you knew for sure that she didn’t want all of this, what would your next move be?”

Kirby considered that for a moment. It wasn't exactly something she'd thought about - in fact, she hadn't really thought about her relationship with Fallon as anything other than a 'before' to their future ever since she'd stumbled upon the ring in the first place. Even when she wasn't rushing, the idea that it wouldn't always be what it was at that moment was in the back of her mind. 

"Is it still worth it? If you guys never get married? Or what if she never wants to leave the manor?"

Kirby frowned.

"I... guess that would be okay."

"You guess it's okay, or it is okay?"

"It is okay," Kirby corrected, her tone firmer. "It's not... ideal, but I'd rather that - if that's really what she wants - than the alternative."

"That's sad," Sam replied.

" _ Hey _ !" she crowed, "You asked. I'm just giving you all of the facts."

She sat back as a small platter of mini quiches, fruits, and cheeses was brought to their table and placed between them. Grabbing one of the larger strawberries quickly, she shoved it into her mouth to avoid having to speak any more.

"I think what you need is... a grand gesture. Something big and romantic to show her that you're taking everything seriously."

"What, like I should propose?"

Sam shrugged, but didn't shut the suggestion down.

"Sam, I can't do that. What about the ring? And what if I like... startle her?"

"What about it?" he replied. "You think if you propose first she's just going to return it? You don't even know if it was for you."

Kirby fixed him with a disbelieving look, and he sighed.

"Look. I can appreciate the caution - and I'm sure Fallon will, too. But you know the drill. The engagement isn't supposed to be a surprise, but the proposal is."

Sighing, the redhead nodded slowly and reached for the plate again. 

"Thank you," she told him. "For listening, I mean. And the advice. I think I just got a little too in my own head for a minute, there."

"Fallon's rubbing off on you," he replied, fixing her with a quick smile when she looked up and caught his eye. "You're overthinking it."

"Always," she agreed, nodding and then chuckling to herself as she gestured to their server to return.

* * *

"You're home!" Fallon descended on her in the doorway, barely letting her follow Sam inside before grabbing her arms. "I didn't know when you'd be back - is your phone off? I tried to text you."

Unable to do anything except blink in surprise for a moment, Kirby let herself be pulled along, glancing back at Sam for help. He shrugged, smiling, and left them to it.

"Fallon, what're you -"

"I'm sorry," she stopped on the bottom step, turning around and grabbing both of the redhead's hands in her own. "I just... I felt really terrible about yesterday, and I didn't get to see you in the morning, and I didn't want to go into the office until I got to talk to you about it."

"I - it's okay," Kirby insisted, frowning in concern.

"No," Fallon shook her head. "It isn't. I want to talk to you about it - all of it. Can we?"

Still reeling in surprise, Kirby nodded, then let her girlfriend lead her the rest of the way up the stairs and down the hall to her bedroom.

The room was in a state of slight disarray - Fallon's pajamas were in a pile on the floor, a few outfits strewn about various surfaces and the bed still mussed up from the night before. She clearly hadn't left the room yet to have the staff come in and tidy - she was more upset than Kirby had realized.

"What's going on?"

Turning to face her, Fallon reached back and blindly swept a jacket off of the edge of the bed onto the floor, then sat down.

"C'mere."

She patted the spot beside her, but Kirby suddenly felt rooted to the spot. If Fallon hadn't seemed as apologetic as she did, it would have felt like a breakup waiting to happen - but the look of concern on the other woman's face relaxed Kirby enough to soften and cave in, stepping forward and then getting comfortable beside her. 

"I'm... sorry. I know why you're mad," she danced around saying it outright, but Kirby let her speak. Fallon reached into her lap and gently took both of her hands before continuing, "And it was... inconsiderate. I know I haven't exactly been  _ available  _ lately, and that wasn't fair to you. So I think, if you still want to, I want to have that talk now." 

Kirby watched her, then glanced down at their hands. 

"I don't need anything other than this. You know that, right?"

"I don't either," Fallon replied quickly, but Kirby cut her off.

"No, let me finish. I mean - I'm not in any hurry because you're all I need. But I want to get married. No 'maybe', no 'sure, one day', I need to know, so I can stop wondering. I  _ want  _ to ask you to marry me.  _ Do you want to get married? _ "

Fallon dropped her gaze to their hands again. 

"Yeah."

"Yeah?" Kirby dipped her head to look her in the eye again. "You don't sound so sure."

"I am sure," Fallon replied, looking at her again. "Are  _ you  _ sure?"

Kirby laughed before she could help herself.

“Of course I’m sure. What would possibly make you think otherwise?”

Fallon shrugged. 

“You’ve been a little bit cagey, lately,” she admitted.

“That’s fair,” Kirby replied. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot. It sort of put me on edge.”

“But  _ why? _ ” Fallon pressed. “Why does all of this stress you out so much?”

“It doesn’t,” Kirby insisted, squeezing her hands. “I promise. I just… I got this idea in my head that maybe  _ you  _ had been thinking about it, and I think that we just started… feeding off of each other’s weirdness until we got  _ here _ .” She gestured between them, then took her hands again.

“Okay,” she nodded slowly. “I don’t know why you thought  _ I  _ was being weird.”

“No,” Kirby promised. “You weren’t being weird. Like I said I just… thought you were already thinking about it, and -”

“But  _ why?” _

Blushing hotly, the redhead shook her head and cleared her throat nervously. Thoughts of the ring buried under the scarves flooded her head and she felt her throat tighten.

“No reason.”

_ “Kirby.” _

Squirming on the spot, she pursed her lips and shook her head.

“I said ‘no reason’. That’s not the point, here, anyway.” She took a breath, ignoring the way that the suspicious look on the other woman’s face simultaneously made her nervous and also gave her the overwhelming urge to kiss her. She was hit with the overwhelming realization that she was madly in love with every single thing about her. “Fallon, can we get married? Please?”

“Yes.”

Grinning unashamedly, now, Kirby lurched forward to kiss her, squeezing her hands in her lap and trying not to laugh outright in relieved bliss.

Breaking back a moment later, Fallon cleared her throat.

“So? Where’s the ring?” 

“The what?” Kirby reeled back in horrified confusion, before realizing that Fallon wasn’t asking about the ring she’d found all of those months earlier, but instead about a ring from  _ Kirby.  _ A ring that she didn’t have. “Oh, I uh… I didn’t really plan to… like… right  _ now _ , so maybe -”

Fallon sighed heavily, dramatically, and with a thrill, Kirby realized that she was putting on a show of fake exasperation, not real disappointment.

“Lucky for you, I’m better prepared.”

Detangling their hands, Fallon stood up from the bed and made her way over to the door, picking up her purse from the chair propped against the wall there. She dug through it for a moment, before returning to the bed and sitting down once more.

“You did save me from ruining the knees of my pants, at least. These  _ are  _ silk blend, so I’ll give you points for that.”

Taking Kirby’s hand before she could protest or ask any questions, Fallon smoothly shook what was in her hand from her palm to her fingertips, twisting it into position before sliding it smoothly onto Kirby’s finger.  _ The  _ ring.

“Were you just carrying this around this entire time?” Kirby asked, hearing the breathlessness in her own voice as she stared at it. It looked even more beautiful on, and the entire thing felt surreal.

“As opposed to what?” Fallon asked. Kirby glanced up to her face and watched her brows knit together in confusion.

“Nothing,” she replied quickly, thinking of the box of scarves once more. “Never mind. It’s beautiful.”

Looking down at her hand again, she lifted it closer to admire the ring at every angle, not realizing how long she’d been sitting in silence until she noticed Fallon watching her.

“I did okay?”

Chuckling, she leaned over to kiss her, sliding further up onto the bed to get closer. Tucking herself into Fallon’s side, she held her hand up again so they could both admire the ring, cuddling close until another thought struck her.

“How long have you been holding this, exactly?”

She felt Fallon tense up beside her and tilted her head back to look up at her but the brunette was avoiding her gaze.

“That isn’t important.”

Kirby moved to sit up indignantly, but Fallon held her a little tighter, keeping her in place.

“I - when exactly were you going to propose?”

“Doesn’t matter now, does it?”

“ _ You! _ ” Kirby wiggled impatiently, trying even harder to sit up. It was difficult to gain the upper hand or any balance in her leaning position, though, so Fallon had no real issue keeping her down. “You  _ stole  _ my proposal! You made  _ me  _ take all of the risk just so  _ you  _ could get the reward!”

She could  _ hear  _ the laughter in the other woman’s voice when she spoke next.

“That’s good business, Kirby. This is day one stuff. Besides, if you had just been patient -”

She didn’t get to finish whatever she was going to say, because Kirby grabbed her by the waist and pulled her down with her, wrestling against her. 

“You are such an asshole,” she insisted over the other woman’s giggling, despite the grin on her face. She grappled against Fallon’s arms, shoving them away and wrapping herself around her to get access to the ticklish spot on the back of her ribs.

“How can you say that?” Fallon laughed, arching closer to her with renewed giggling before complaining, “ _ Fuck _ \- your ring is sharp, stop!”

"Sorry, sorry," Kirby chuckled, withdrawing her hands but then circling them around her hips, instead. Staring down at the brunette, she couldn't force the smile off of her face if she tried. "I love you."

"I love you too," Fallon replied breathlessly, mirroring her smile. "Sorry for hijacking your proposal."

"No you're not," Kirby rolled her eyes, lifting her hand again to admire the ring once more. "But I really can't be mad at you with this on my hand."

"I didn't think so," Fallon hummed, sitting up just enough to capture her lips with her own once more. "Thank you for being patient."

"Thank you for not abusing it," Kirby whispered, kissing her one more time before Fallon's phone ringing loudly on the nightstand interrupted them. She pulled back with a groan, reaching for it.

"Hey -" Fallon grabbed it quickly before she could, holding it out of her reach. "I'm sorry - I still have to go in. It's a big day."

Kirby pouted before she could help herself, and Fallon quickly shook her head, setting the phone down to cup her face with both hands, instead.

"Nooooo, no no. Don't do that. I'll be back in a couple of hours and we can celebrate."

Sighing defeatedly, Kirby slid off of her.

“We haven’t even been engaged for an hour and you’re already ignoring me for work.”

“Oh,” Fallon waved a hand, “That isn’t new.” The tiniest hint of a smirk ghosted over her features and Kirby couldn’t help but smile despite how hard she tried not to.

"Why don't you make a list of people we need to tell - and then when I get back, we can go over it. Together. I'll be home before you know it."

Kirby considered, the excited realization of the reality of everything already blossoming up in the pit of her stomach.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay," she confirmed, nodding once and then standing up from the bed. "You won't be gone too long?"

Fallon stood as well, shaking her head.

"No. I won't be able to focus much, anyway."

Admiring her ring again, Kirby waited as the brunette flitted around the room getting ready to leave, and then beamed when she came over to kiss her goodbye.

"You're going to get that list started?" Fallon reminded her.

"Yeah. I can't wait."


End file.
